The train brings me closer to home. I relive lunch.
I am not ready. Is it a gift? It is good news I do not want to hear.
“There’s something I want to show you.”
She hands me a package. I undo the wrapping.
“Turn it over.”
I know what it’s going to say. Reluctantly I obey. There it is. At the end of some other words. In a cute font: GRANDFATHER.
In my mind, it is all about me. I try to make the right noises and absentmindedly hand back the baby bodysuit.
Grey hair, age milestones. I survived those without difficulty. The start of a new generation is the one milestone that makes me feel categorically old.
The announcer tells me to make sure to take all my belongings.